


Tussle Over Easy

by harlequin (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Struggle for Dominance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-04
Updated: 2009-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is a delightfully obliging lay, at least when it comes to his prince. But Arthur wants something different this time, and tries to convince Merlin to at least pretend to put up a struggle before they get to the inevitable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tussle Over Easy

♦

They had been happily tussling back and forth on his bed, he and Merlin, as they kissed, as they wrestled each other’s clothes off or at least open – but as soon as Arthur grasped Merlin’s right wrist in his left hand and planted it secure against the bed, as soon as he shifted over atop the man with his knee pushing between Merlin’s legs, then Merlin happily surrendered. They still kissed, they still moved against each other, and they still worked haphazardly on the unfortunate clothing situation, they were both still hard – but also Merlin’s hands were encouraging on Arthur’s back, and his thighs were wide in welcome, and his mouth was just that little bit softer and more available… Arthur, as he’d done a hundred times before, felt himself going along with it. Arthur found himself also surrendering. Surrendering to the necessary, the inevitable possession of Merlin. The delightful possession of this man. Merlin may well be the most woeful servant in all of recorded history – but as a lover, Arthur thought smugly, Merlin always gave complete satisfaction. Except that this time, maybe… This time, maybe Arthur wanted… Arthur wanted something different.

He quieted, slowed, stopped.

Merlin looked up at him trustingly with a warm and ready smile. After a moment, he asked, ‘Second thoughts…?’

Arthur snorted. ‘After all these months?’

‘Perhaps you’re tiring of me already…’ The glint of humour in his eye betrayed the fact that Merlin didn’t fear his answer in the least.

‘No, of course not,’ Arthur said anyway. He shifted to his left so he could lie beside Merlin; propped his head on a hand so he could look down on him. Then he complained, ‘But you’re so _easy_ , aren’t you?’

Merlin just laughed, grinning broadly, and winked up at him. ‘Don’t tell my mother.’

Arthur groaned in frustration and annoyance, and collapsed onto his back.

‘And I play really _quite_ hard–to–get for everyone but you,’ Merlin teased him in unnecessary reassurance. But then he asked quite reasonably, ‘What’s the matter, Arthur?’

‘Do you have to just give in like that? _Every_ time?’

‘I _like_ you fucking me,’ Merlin declared in his most straightforward tones, ‘and _you_ like fucking me. So, it’s not a matter of me giving in.’

‘You don’t want to, like… fight me off once in a while? Resist me?’

Merlin scratched his head in confusion. ‘No. Why would I?’

Arthur just groaned again. He knew he wasn’t explaining himself very well, but then Merlin was really still too much the innocent to fill in the gaps himself. There were times when Arthur found Merlin’s rather naïve take on things a refreshing change from what he was used to at court, there were times when Merlin’s perspective was even right – but this wasn’t one of them.

Merlin was turning towards him now, propping himself up to look down at Arthur. Obviously realising that Arthur was serious about this. Whatever it was. ‘Anyway,’ Merlin mused, ‘how could I _really_ fight you off? Unless I…’ Dark misgivings crossed his face for a moment. But then he returned. ‘Um, you’re just gonna win mostly anyway, aren’t you? You’re a better fighter than me.’

‘Yes. _Far_ better, I would hope.’

‘Unless, maybe…’ Merlin grinned. ‘We could quit sword practice – which I’m _still_ useless at! – and you could teach me how to wrestle instead.’

‘Mmm…’ he responded, suddenly full of interest. He rather liked the idea of that. Arthur was certainly stronger, and had the advantage of greater weight, but Merlin had a wiry strength all his own, and the necessary suppleness for wrestling, not to mention a certain talent for doing the unexpected. It would be a challenge, but also maybe it would be something Merlin could actually be fairly good at. Not to mention the lessons providing a further chance to grasp and grapple with his lover… ‘We’d have to conduct the lessons in private,’ Arthur warned him, ‘or I couldn’t be held responsible for the consequences.’

Merlin chuckled. ‘Sounds good to me.’ He lifted a hand to run a quizzical finger from Arthur’s temple down his jaw–line and across to his chin. ‘But, even so…’ he said. ‘I don’t see the point.’

‘You don’t?’

‘No. You’re still gonna end up fucking me, aren’t you? And I’m still gonna let you, because I like it as much as you do.’

Arthur rolled his eyes. ‘Well, _good_ ,’ he said shortly, knowing that he actually had no real grounds for complaint. ‘But how about… you resist me for a while… to delay the inevitable?’

Merlin nodded, considering this. ‘Pretend I don’t want you, to make it last longer, you mean?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, sometimes.’ Arthur shrugged. Sometimes they only had time for quick–and–dirty, but on other occasions Arthur would be perfectly happy if they could be at it all night…

‘I guess I can see the point of that.’

‘You could even pretend that… I’m a knight, and you’re my very reluctant squire. Or you’re the prisoner whose pride I’m determined to break, or something.’

Merlin gently scoffed. ‘So this whole prince–and–his–man–servant thing has gotten a bit old for you, has it?’

He said, very clipped, ‘I think _reluctant_ might be the operative word.’

But a sigh greeted this. ‘I’m not very good at pretending, Arthur.’

‘No, you’re pretty useless at it, aren’t you?’ Arthur agreed with a certain deflating sensation.

‘And if it’s inevitable that you’re gonna fuck me, that makes it even harder to pretend, doesn’t it?’

Arthur suddenly felt a warning, like the intimation of a lance flying swift right through his heart.

‘I mean, give me more of a reason, or I’ll just end up…’

‘Surrendering.’

‘…laughing at the wrong moment.’

Arthur looked at him as quellingly as he could manage. ‘Well, we wouldn’t want _that_ now, would we?’

‘No,’ Merlin equably agreed. ‘There’s you wanting to wrestle me, and there’s you wanting to kill me. I don’t think we should try mixing them up. Anyway,’ he added softly as he leaned in close to press a kiss to Arthur’s cheek, ‘I just want it to be me,’ another kiss, to his throat, ‘and you,’ that mouth trailing down to Arthur’s chest, ‘my prince.’

‘Yes,’ Arthur agreed. He wasn’t really into role–playing. He’d gotten off the track there somehow.

Merlin was starting to move over him now, gently provoking him with kisses and caresses, obviously trying to get them both back to where they’d started. It was sweet. Arthur lay there for a while, soaking up the attention, and eventually he lifted an arm to embrace Merlin’s shoulders.

‘What if…’ Arthur murmured. ‘What if it wasn’t inevitable?’

‘Mmm?’ Merlin asked from where he was mouthing across Arthur’s stomach.

‘I mean, what if… we were wrestling…’

‘Mmm…’ That mouth trailing lower, and a hand beginning to ineptly push Arthur’s unlaced britches down past his hips.

‘And I was trying to fuck you, if I won…’

‘Mmm?’ Nuzzling now in places that were starting to ache for more.

‘And if _you_ won…’ Arthur stalled.

After a moment’s silence, Merlin slowly lifted his head, and regarded Arthur with those sharp, warm blue eyes. ‘What?’

‘If you won, you could…’

They looked at each other for a long moment. Arthur couldn’t quite say it. But for once he didn’t need to spell it out. Merlin was gazing at him, his blue eyes growing hot – And Arthur found that warning lance hadn’t flown right through his heart after all, but had impaled it, and was stuck fast there now, quivering…

Then suddenly they were both moving – Merlin was struggling up to his knees while both hands started wrenching Arthur’s britches down further –

‘You _dare_ to –!’ cried Arthur, seizing Merlin’s shoulders, and trying to turn him around and throw him back onto the bed –

And from there it was a mad scramble as they each tried to seduce the other with rough kisses or distract with the most shameless caresses, each tried to expose the other’s rump while trying to protect his own, each tried to turn the other over and pin him to the bed, all accompanied by groans and growls and muffled shouts. It was glorious. Merlin, bless him, was utterly serious, utterly determined. Arthur knew that he himself was the better fighter, so he just hung on when he had to, and he didn’t give an inch. Eventually he’d win, as they both must know he would.

However, he was almost disappointed when Merlin showed reluctant signs of surrender again. But they both wanted it, after all. Maybe it _was_ inevitable. Eventually Arthur was lying there between those welcoming thighs, and Merlin was kissing him – kissing him quite aggressively, but also letting Arthur mime his anticipated possession with his tongue. Arthur had Merlin’s hands pinned to the bed either side of his head, but after a while that seemed unnecessary; he had his man where he wanted him. He let one hand go. It trailed down Arthur’s back, then pushed again at his britches. Arthur released Merlin’s other hand, and cooperatively raised his hips a little so they could push aside the encumbrance of clothing. Arthur nuzzled at Merlin’s throat, content. It was going to be all the sweeter to possess Merlin tonight, his own dear Merlin who had always tried so hard to give Arthur what he needed during these encounters, even if sometimes he didn’t quite understand. Those long–fingered hands were massaging his rump encouragingly; soon they would be digging in as Merlin insisted on deeper, harder, faster…

A fingertip trailed boldly and completely unexpectedly across Arthur’s tenderest flesh, across the entrance to him, and he gasped. Stopped. Shocked by the flood of sensation. The pad of Merlin’s finger rubbed against him again, and suddenly all of Arthur seemed filled with an oddly dense kind of heat.

Merlin was crooning loving nonsense in his ear. And all Arthur could manage to do was pant damply against the man’s throat. No one had ever dared touch him there. No one had ever… That provocative finger was pushing inside now, wriggling inside, coolly infiltrating the heat that was Arthur, thickly invading him. ‘That’s it, that’s it now,’ Merlin was whispering, ‘let me in, let me have you, my prince, my beautiful prince…’

Arthur groaned a protest, but it was ignored. Unless it was actually a plea, in which case… Arthur groaned again. He hated losing. Usually. He usually hated losing. God, _why_ had no one ever done this for him before?

‘Come on, come up further,’ Merlin was encouraging him, his other hand tucked under Arthur’s right buttock, indicating he should shift further up against his lover.

Arthur did so with another groan, his cock sliding hard up Merlin’s narrow belly. Merlin’s mouth at his nipples now, chewing first one and then the other. One of Merlin’s long fingers fucking him, fucking him… _God!_ He felt completely immobilised, simply because it felt so fantastic. Terrified that Merlin would follow through on this. Terrified that he wouldn’t.

‘Bring your legs up,’ Merlin murmured. ‘Sit up now. Come on…’

He pushed himself up to arm’s length, bent his knees and swung his legs up, then sat up so he was straddling Merlin’s hips. That finger with him all the way. Merlin’s hot blue eyes gazing up at him with love, but also with lusty merciless determination.

‘Get me ready for you. Use your spit.’

Arthur looked down to see his own cock jutting out harder than ever, and just below it, Merlin’s cock poking up, just as hard and needy. He spat into his palm, rubbed it over Merlin’s cockhead. Merlin hissed at the contact, and his breathing hitched. Arthur spat again, ran his hand over the cock he already knew so well, considering it from this new perspective. Merlin beat him in terms of length, it was true, but not in breadth; the results were surprisingly elegant. And Arthur could cope with that. Surely he could handle that… Arthur sighed. It was far too late for doubts now.

‘Are you ready for me?’ Merlin asked softly.

They looked at each other, both on edge, both barely clinging to control. ‘Yes,’ Arthur whispered.

‘Lift up, then. You know what to do.’

‘Yes…’ He rose to just the right height, leant his weight forward on his left arm, while taking Merlin in his right hand, pushing him back between Arthur’s thighs to position him. That finger stayed with him, providing a guide to the necessary configuration, and Merlin tilted his hips to help get the angles right.

Finally Merlin’s cockhead was pushing against his tenderest flesh, and Arthur was pushing down, lowering himself. Trying to impale himself. Merlin muttering, ‘That’s it, that’s it, my beautiful, my beautiful Arthur,’ and Arthur himself just grunting a little as the breath caught in his throat. A moment of unbreachable resistance, and then Merlin suddenly broke through, and they both cried out, ragged with shock and need. ‘That’s it, that’s it…’ Merlin already beginning to sound fraught. ‘Now further, a bit further, keep going.’

He knew what to do, though he’d only experienced this from the other perspective. Arthur pushed down again, just a short way, then tried to raise himself again on thighs suddenly gone shaky. But it would be easier if they completed this in stages. Merlin’s hands were on his hips and waist, helping him keep his balance; Arthur’s hands clung to Merlin’s arms for the same purpose. Arthur bit his lower lip and pushed down again.

Eventually he had taken all of Merlin’s elegant length deep within him, and he rested there, the flesh of his butt and the back of his thighs making intimate contact with Merlin’s flesh. Everything about this was new to him. Everything about it was shockingly wonderful. He just sat there for long slow moments, experiencing it.

‘All right?’ Merlin asked in a raw whisper.

‘Yes. You?’

A croaky groaning laugh as Merlin closed his eyes for a moment. ‘ _Yes._ Yes, my prince.’ Then he looked up at Arthur again. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘No.’

‘Are you _sure_?’

‘Bit uncomfortable, that’s all.’ He shrugged, and then shuddered – realised that any movement he made would find an echo in Merlin’s possession of him.

Merlin's right hand slipped down to caress and then wrap around Arthur’s cock. Which was as hard as ever. Which meant something, surely. That hand began a lovely tugging stroke.

Arthur let out a ragged breath. Gathering himself. Then forced his thighs to lift him up, settle him down, lift him up again, in the familiar motion of sitting his horse in a trot. He would never again be able to ride without memories that threatened to make him blush.

And so they continued for as long as they might: Merlin’s hot blue gaze steady on his; Merlin’s hand working steadily at his cock; Arthur finding an angle, maintaining a rhythm, that must inevitably devastate him. Wonderful, to feel someone else as part of him. Wonderful, that it was Merlin. The sensations remained uncomfortable, and yet somehow they were also fantastic – and when the end finally loomed, it was caused directly by Merlin’s hand on his cock, but so perfectly augmented by Merlin’s cock in his arse that Arthur seriously thought he may never want anything other than this ever again.

The pleasure finally took him like a wave crashing down through him, pounding him, pummelling him; he curled up under the onslaught, the shudders running through him. Merlin remained attentive, yet he gave a surprised shout as Arthur felt himself clutch at Merlin’s cock, and Merlin’s own shudders added to the confusion and the pleasure as the man struggled not to unseat him, not to hurt him. And all was tumult and glory.

♦

At last it receded, leaving Arthur curled up on the bed, with Merlin curled up lovingly, protectively around him. Arthur must have dozed for a while. When he came to, Merlin was watching him, those blue eyes softly, safely warm now. They considered each other for a moment, peaceful. Separate now, but at peace with each other.

Eventually Merlin said quietly, ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes. And you?’

Merlin laughed. ‘Yes. I suppose.’

‘You _suppose_?’ Bloody ingrate.

‘This must be some new version of _all right_ that I’ve never felt before. It’s marvellous.’

_Oh._ Arthur returned the happy smile, he couldn’t help himself. But then he stretched, and straightened out a bit – though he stayed within Merlin’s arms – and he asked, ‘How did you do that? How did you win?’

Merlin winked at him. ‘That’s my secret.’

‘No, come on. Tell me.’

The humour died away. Merlin considered him carefully, almost worriedly. ‘I didn’t use anything I – I didn’t _do_ anything I shouldn’t.’

Arthur snorted. ‘You just fucked the crown prince of Camelot.’

‘Well, it’s not like I forced you!’ With a rising note of panic.

‘All right, all right.’ Arthur reached to hold the man, to press his forehead against Merlin’s temple. ‘I know you didn’t force me. But you weren’t going to win a fight, were you?’

‘Not by fighting,’ Merlin cautiously allowed.

‘One moment I’m thinking you’ve surrendered to me again, and the next I’m realising that actually I’ve already surrendered to you.’ Arthur pulled away again, just far enough to look at the man properly. ‘I’m wondering how you did it, that’s all.’

Merlin looked at him for a long moment; he was calmer again, though he’d lost that confident air of certainty he’d worn for a while. Which was rather a pity. It had suited him. ‘I just… Arthur, it’s not much of a secret. I just did what you wanted me to do. That’s all.’

Arthur considered the man for a while, and found his own lips were quirking into a smile despite himself. ‘Well,’ he said at last. ‘There really is a first time for everything, it seems.’

And Merlin was smiling back at him, with all his cheeky ready _engagement_ with the world. ‘Maybe I should do what you want more often.’

‘Steady on there, Merlin. Let’s not get too carried away.’

‘No, sire,’ he murmured. The smile quirked a little. ‘But I think I’m gonna do what you want right now, whether you like it or not.’

‘Mmm? What’s that?’

And Merlin leaned in close to kiss him.

♦


End file.
